And after Robert Smith ate Deerhunter's Rainwater Cassette Exchange and arrived at that beach in January, he clicked his fingers and from the sea arose some coifed New Yorkers looking for a graveyard to hang out in. That is literally how we think Minks came to be because following the release of their first single on Brooklyn label Captured Tracks nobody knew anything about them but their melancholy jives.

Opening with 'Kusmi', careful, minimal production allows the soft bassline to gently push the track along with swashy synths dressing lazy vocals in lace and sailing downstream. Although more defined vocals, "Out of tune/out of mind", show a new face to Minks in the subsequent track, along with tiring sways of guitar, 'Out of tune' leans toward the suggestion that you'll either be asleep or dead by the end of the album. 'Life at dusk' drifts into a shudder of pumping snares and emotive twangs, quickly breathing life back into the album and restoring faith before Minks cascade into the pool of 'Indian Ocean'.

A classical combination of chords and simple riffs ease the listener into their chair, gliding carelessly sideways; a perfect instrumental almost hinting at a smile. Or at least a sigh of relief. Maybe not quite but 'Indian Ocean' certainly showcases the musical capabilities of the cloudy gloom of Minks. First single, 'Funeral Song' follows, recreating the bounce of bass led Goth Pop through conventional In Between Days-esque swinger verses iced with dreamy lo-fi synth lines. Via the heavy-going raincoated track of 'Our Ritual', the album slips into 'Cemetary Rain': A glum bop which bobs along and seems to make the best of a rainy day, sadness shining through the damp vocals and chirpy claps and guitar solos disguising a moan as a snappy crowd pleaser.

Skipping over the solemn wails of 'Bruises' and 'Boys Run Wild', 'Ophelia' drips a tinting of rose over the melancholy with heartfelt wallowing over the remains of a relationship ("Memories are all we have"). Coupling with the prior track, 'Juniper' drops another level into abyss, ("Pull me under") but begins to lose some of the intricacies of the first half of "By The Hedge" and hint hopeless sorrow. As the album draws to a close with 'Arboretum Dogs', all joviality is forgotten and although legible lyrics could provide a direction for such a simple song, smeared guitars flow with vague vocals and merge the whole album into a puddle of sheer dampness.

The debut from Brooklyn's isn't exactly a walk in the park as it falls into pits of careless emotion in tracks such as those that close the album... Although, in 'Funeral Song' frontman and songwriter Sean Kilfoyle's voice cries out "So, long/The summer's gone and I like it". If he's content with making upsetting music then we're certainly happy adjusting to the idea of a pleasantly rainy day and shaking our hips to the highlights of the album over and over. But crying at the same time. - Henry Johns